


GOD'S EYE

by MelodramaticMrTails



Category: DCU (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 23:33:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16438967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodramaticMrTails/pseuds/MelodramaticMrTails
Summary: While trying to retrieve his son from the Underworld, Slade accidentally lets something else out.





	GOD'S EYE

**Author's Note:**

> since i did all of these in about two days each, i'll probably double back eventually and add some more to most of these but this one i'll definitely finish soon
> 
> 'apollo' = original roy harper   
> 'roy' = cloned roy harper  
> 'li' = black mask's assistant from utrh

The ferryman stares at him and Slade stares back.

The silence is only cut by the noises coming from the damned souls beneath them, ever loud and present in their wailing.

“You are alive,” the ferryman finally says. “I can not take you into the Underworld.” Slade has come a long way to be turned down here. Fortunately, he’s planned for this. Hopefully it works. He pulls out a box of thin mints.

The ferryman looks at the box, looks at him, back at the box, then back at him.

“Get in,” he says. Slade doesn't have to be told twice. He climbs into the little rowboat carefully, knowing better than to touch the water beneath it, and hands the box over as he goes. The boat gradually starts rowing itself. Slade listens as the ferryman begins to eat.

He thinks it's a ‘he’ anyways. When he looks too long or not long enough, she changes but he thinks she's mostly a she. Slade kind of wishes they'd move a little bit faster considering how fast he's eating those things, though. He has a second box but preferably, he'd like a way to also get out of here.

Slade distracts himself by looking down into the water. Admittedly, he doesn't know what would happen if he touched it and he doesn't want to find out. He's sure it would start a war between the gods, his deity demanding him back and the Underworld refusing to oblige under its own rules. Considering he isn't interested in seeing that though, Slade keeps his limbs inside the boat.

“Such an opportunist,” the ferryman says. Slade glances back at him mutely but she doesn't seem to see him. He decides not to say anything. Fortunately, it seems the information he was given was right and by the time the cookies are gone, they've reached the otherside. Slade draws his sword as he hops out, cautiously watching where he steps and keeping an eye out for the guard dog.

“Thank you,” Slade tells the ferryman.

“Your funeral,” he replies and he rows off again.

Slade continues on his journey. The world moves around him more than he it, every step he takes guided by the stones that appear before him, preventing him from ever taking a step back. There's lots to see but he can never get quite close enough to make out details like hazy, distant memories. At any rate, the Underworld obviously knows where he wants to go.

Suspiciously, Slade never sees the three headed guard dog like he was warned.

The path takes him directly to the heart of the Underworld,  ~~Hades~~ ’ realm. Slade sheathes his blade but doesn't take his hand from the hilt. The doors are open, a good thing perhaps considering how high the knocker is. He enters slowly and the dim, fire lit surroundings of the Underworld change into something much more  _crisp_. A penthouse with glass walls, minimalistic but clean and organized. And empty.

Slade pauses, looks around slowly, then approaches the window. There's a city outside of it, a view of the surface world in real time- a view  ~~Hades~~ ’ is barred from in person. Trapped in the Underworld like the rest of the damned souls he tends to.

“What are you doing?”

Slade turns to look at him. In his head, he knows his name;  ~~Persephone~~ ,  ~~Hades~~ ’ wife. The knowledge is ingrained on him from his deity with no real source and Slade has long since stopped wondering why he knows things. When he speaks, however, his mouth obeys a different rule.

“Jason,” Slade says. “Where is Sionis?” Jason looks at him from across the room, examines him closely, then wanders closer. Slade doesn't budge, knows better to show fear or hesitancy around gods. Jason, who appeared relatively normal sized from a distance, is huge up close. He has to look up at him and the shiny, green tears that constantly stream his face are somehow far more unsettling up close. Slade looks down at his hand as a drop lands on him, clinging to his skin briefly before he shakes it off.

When he looks back up, Jason is closer to his size- and more human looking but Slade can't remember what he looked like before.

“Walking his dog,” Jason finally replies. “Could be gone for a while.” Of course. Slade spends the better half of two years trying to get here only to find Sionis is out  _walking_  his  _dog_. Why not?

“I can wait,” Slade assures.

“You're barkin’ up the wrong tree, you know,” Jason says. Slade gives him an unamused look and Jason shrugs. “Sionis doesn't let  _anyone_  out of the Underworld.”

“I can be convincing,” Slade promises. People have gotten out of the Underworld before and he's ready for any trial he has to complete to get his son back.

“You’d have to kill him,” Jason assures.

“I'm not killing your husband,” Slade says firmly. Jason walks around him, like a cat nonchalantly sizing up a meal. His face changes and Slade steels himself.

“Shame, you came so close to savin’ Grant,” he murmurs. Slade defiantly keeps eye contact with his dead son’s face.

“If I kill Sionis, I have to take his place,” he says. “And I'd be trapped here.”

“But you'd be able to let your son free,” Jason insists.

“If you want him dead, you do it,” Slade replies. Jason scoffs and his face changes back again- but Slade can't remember what he looked like before. Killing a god isn't exactly as easy as he seems to want to imply it is and even if it was, Slade can't argue that Sionis runs a tight shift around here. The work that goes into being  ~~Hades~~  is more than he's interested in taking on now or ever. Besides, if he loses, he'd be bound by his deity to serve out the rest of eternity as little more than a slave.

“Whatever,” Jason says mildly. “Maybe we can still help each other. Sionis won't.”

“I came here to make a deal with Sionis,” Slade assures.

“When was the last time you heard of Sionis making a deal with anyone?” Jason asks. Not in a very, very long time Slade is suddenly intimately aware of. Beyond taking champions, the god doesn't make a habit of dealing with mortals as of a couple hundred years ago. Slade firms his jaw. “Exactly.”

“What kind of deal?” he asks.

“I can help you,” Jason promises. “But not while I'm in the Underworld. I'm bound by the laws Sionis sets down here as much as anyone else. Help me get out and I can help you out.” If anyone can help him with matters regarding the Underworld, it's going to be Jason. Sionis may run things well but it's widely accepted that Jason is the more powerful of the two. The only reason they haven't destroyed each other already is because that would break laws much older than any of them set by many, many iterations past.

“Give me your word,” Slade demands.

“You have my word,” Jason assures. He's so  _close_  to his goal.

“Fine. What do I have to do?” Slade asks. Jason grins at him. He holds his hand out and a red robe appears in it.

“Easy,” he says. “Show me the way out. I can't find it on my own.” Sounds a little too easy but what choice does he have. Slade slacks his grip on his sword. He turns, heading back the way he came in, and Jason follows. He pulls the robe on and it covers him near completely, turning him into a shapeless figure that almost seems to float- or maybe does.

“Oh, one thing, though,” Jason tacks on. Of course. “Don't look back.”

Slade inhales slowly and proceeds on. He doesn't actually know the way but the Underworld does. Whether Jason is following him or not, and Slade can't actually hear him, the path leads him through a similar path that it had before back down to the river of the dead.

The ferryman awaits him as if having known when he'd be returning. Slade hands him the second box of cookies and climbs back in the boat.

This time, he doesn't look back at the ferryman, however. He can hear her crunching away but he doesn't check. The closer they get to the otherside, the more Slade’s skin crawls. It feels like there's something dangerous behind him and he can't tell if it's Jason or the ferryman. He palms the hilt of his sword again. As they touch the otherside, the feeling only elevates.

_**I'll kill you, I'll drag you to the bottom of the river, I'll see you suffer.** _

“Mr. Slade,” the ferryman says. Slade pauses but he doesn't turn around.

_**I'll kill you, I'll kill you, I'll kill you. Look at me.** _

“Need something?” he asks mildly. The ferryman doesn't reply. Slade feels too heavy to move like a force behind him is trying to pull him back and his mind presents him with a ghost image of the creature doing it. He can't remember what it looks like, though. The pause seems to draw on infinitely long.

“Be careful,” the ferryman finally says.

“I will,” Slade answers and his mouth supplies, “appreciated, Li.” The feeling of dread clinging to his backside evaporates. He continues forward. The walk is long but from here, just that. Even now, he has no idea if Jason is still following and more so, if anything else is following. He isn't sure he cares. If it gets Grant back, Slade is willing.

The walk seems even longer this direction.

Eventually, though, the cave he entered through opens back up to the surface world. He winces as he steps out into the sunlight, shields his eye and breathes deep of the fresh air. With little warning, Jason walks past him and the robe he wears suddenly wraps around his head. It solidifies into a solid helmet and beneath his robe, a proper human body takes shape- already equipped with more guns than a god should need.

“Thanks for the escort, champ,” Jason says.

“Now what about-” Slade begins and Jason disappears into thin air. “My son.”

“You know he tricked you, right?” Dick murmurs. Slade turns to look behind him, the passageway to the Underworld now gone as though it had never been there. He can't go that way again and finding a new one is going to be- stressful. He turns to Dick irritably.

“Where have you been?” he asks shortly. Dick floats around him.

“Hanging out with Wally?” he replies. “Why?”

“I haven't seen you in  _years_ ,” Slade snaps. His deity. Not that anyone would assume that. They usually assume  ~~Athena~~  or  ~~Ares~~  based on his fighting style and sheer force of will, not that he's a champion of beauty and love. No, Slade chose  ~~Aphrodite~~  for a very particular reason and he hasn't been let down yet.

“I have a loose grasp on time?” Dick says and he shrugs faintly. Slade exhales slowly, calming himself. He pulls his sword, brandishes it outward, and Dick caresses his fingers down the blade. As well as Slade cares for his equipment, no amount of restoration and upkeep compares to the blessing of his deity.

“He said he would help,” Slade comments as he polishes his renewed blade on the leather of his jeans. God's don't often go back on their word.

“Is that what he said?” Dick asks skeptically. “Specifically?”

Slade clenches his teeth in anger. ‘I can help you out’ as in  _out_  of the Underworld. He's going to kill  ~~Persephone~~.

“What was that even about, Slade?” Dick questions, settling his hands on Slade’s shoulder as if to keep from floating off.

“Grant,” Slade answers curtly. Dick sighs.

“We've been over this,” he says. “Grant lost an unwinnable deal.  _I_  don't even know if his soul is  _in_  the Underworld. You can't bring him back from that.” Slade slides his sword back into his sheathe. He's angry and tired and ready for a fucking nap.

“I can try,” he scoffs back.

“And all that you've done so far is let Jason out offseason,” Dick replies mildly. Slade looks down at his hand as a snowflake settles on his skin- in the same spot the drop of lazarus had. He looks up to the sky as snow begins falling. “Do you even realise the consequences of that?” Slade gives him an even more agitated look.

“Just tell me how bad we're talking,” he says.

“Extremely,” Dick assures. “For the humans, at least. You like those, right? Usually Bruce spends weeks tricking The Joker into Arkham before Jason can roam the surface for the season. Now you've let him out early and Bruce doesn't have time to hide The Joker. Jason is going to try to kill him and nothing will stand in his way.”

“And why do I care if he kills the personification of hysteria?” Slade asks tiredly.

“Because Jason is a god and as much as he also likes humans, he really won't think twice about how many die in his violent pursuit of revenge,” Dick assures. “If they get into a fight, it could span decades and the death toll will rise to the millions. You'd be counting on other gods to interfere which they probably wouldn't. Not to mention a god can't take the place of another god so if one kills another-” he trails off.

“Nothing good, I imagine,” Slade says.

“Let's just say the last time a god killed a god it made The Joker and Batman,” Dick says almost nonchalantly. Oh, good. Slade adores both of them. “Don't feel too bad about it, Jason’s been pulling your strings for two years now.”

“A warning would have been nice,” Slade assures. Dick kisses him sweetly and a jolt of energy hits Slade hard. It's been a while. He knows if he had simply prayed, Dick would have come to his side, but he's perfectly capable without blessings. They are nice, though.

“I was distracted,” he replies. “You need to find Jason and bring him back to the Underworld immediately. If the rampage he's going to go on isn't enough, him bringing winter early is going to be devastating on your little humans farming. Ivy will be  _pissed_.”

Slade starts moving. He doesn't actually know what direction Jason has gone but he naturally lets Dick guide him, his deity contently hanging on to the back of his shirt to float along.

“How do I get him back in the Underworld?” Slade asks.

“Find him first, of course,” Dick says. “Then keep him still and call the ferry. Li will take him back home.” Keeping him ‘still’ isn't going to be easy. Finding him also isn't going to be easy.

Snow falls faster.

-

Tracking Jason is next to impossible. Gods don't exactly like being followed, obviously, and their natural ability to move around the earth as they see fit makes it literally impossible for a human to track one. Slade is a champion, though, and hardly considered human anymore.

Even so, the only reason he manages it is because Jason seems to stay within Gotham. This makes sense considering it's where The Joker, The Batman, and Bruce usually are. Arkham is supposedly somewhere in it as well but where exactly is unknown even to Slade and his deity- apparently for good reason. It's a long six hour ride to Gotham and then another several hours of aimlessly wandering around following his ‘sixth sense’ and the violently random directions it pulls him as Jason ‘teleports’ around.

Dick grows bored pretty quickly and flitters off to do whatever bored gods do.

Gotham is surprisingly small but- creepy. Navigating it leaves something to be desired at the best of times and as such, Slade prefers doing it on foot. The city always seems bigger than it is, alleys that lead in circles, buildings with no top floors, roads that bring you back to where you were. Traveling around it, Slade gets a familiar but distant memory of a past  ~~Hades~~  crying so hard the ground split and he tried to fix it before anyone noticed by patching it with a piece of the Underworld.

Memories from the gods still jar him sometimes.

Eventually Jason does sit still long enough for Slade to catch up with him. He loiters in a bar and when Slade arrives, it's clear most of the patrons have cleared out already. The ones that remain have stayed to quietly worship the drinking god. No one wants to anger him, even if Jason barely seems to notice them, but they pile gifts around him in hopes of pleasing him. Now really isn't the time to be trying. The bartender keeps his glass full, however, and that keeps Jason sated for the time being.

“Jason,” Slade says firmly as he enters. He doesn't get much further than that before he has to jolt back to avoid the oncoming arrow. Jason doesn't even acknowledge him as his champion drops down from the rafters.

“Deathstroke!” Harper greets like they're old friends who haven't seen each other in ages. “How ya doin’ buddy?” Suddenly deciding this is what bored gods do, Dick appears in the seat beside his brother. The people still in the bar hesitate and then everyone's leaving. If it's not enough that obviously two champions are about to face down, then potentially having to choose between Dick and Jason definitely is.

While there's not exactly a rivalry between them, implying that either of them are prettier than the other generally ends poorly for everyone involved. The bartender awkwardly pours Dick a drink from beneath bar level.

“Hello Jason,” Dick hums. Jason nods a mute welcome at him. For now, his red helmet lays around his neck in a constantly moving scarf.

“Get out of the way, Harper,” Slade instructs. “Jason is going back to the Underworld.”

“No can do, lovette,” Harper replies, already knocking another arrow. “Back down, Wilson.”

“Who do you think will win?” Dick muses curiously. “Yours is a champion of two gods but mine plays dirty.” Jason glances back at them. Slade draws his sword.

“Roy,” he says. “He's quicker.”

“I'm not sure about that,” Dick says in amusement. “Wanna bet? Next year's tribute?”

“No,” Jason scoffs, downing another drink. “Mine’s also stupid.” Dick snorts a laugh. Slade advances forward, dodging the arrow that Harper fires at him just barely. These quarters are too tight for this kind of fight.

“If Jason fights with Joker, millions will die,” Slade says. Harper knocks another.

“Nothing we won't recover from,” he assures. Slade kicks a barstool up into his hand to use as a sort of shield as he moves forward. Harper can draw his bow back with such strength, the arrows he fires in quick succession puncture even the cast-iron metal of the stool.

“An early winter will shock the entire economy,” Slade says. When he gets close enough, he throws the stool hard and Harper quickly ducks out of the way, firing the entire time he rolls aside. Slade cuts down any he can't outright avoid.

“You don't think that's worth it to put a stop to Joker?” Harper insists. Slade reflexively catches a stray arrow headed for Dick. “Come on, lovette, I know you don't care about the death toll. You're just mad Jason tricked you.”

“You fuck with Harvest and Ivy will do worse things to you than I ever could,” Slade warns. Harper hops away from him hastily, keeping enough of a range to fire from.

“Actually, I think you'll find Ivy rooting for Jason in this one,” Harper replies. “ _She_  understands a little sacrifice.”

“What's Damian doing?” Jason asks off handedly.

“Still dad’s champion,” Dick replies. Jason grunts a disgusted noise and Dick laughs. “Mean. He's looking to upgrade to god as soon as possible, though. You'd be happy, he's definitely strongly considering  ~~Hades~~ ’ role.”

“I don't want to be married to that brat,” Jason scoffs back. Slade takes an arrow to the shoulder for the sake of getting a slice off on Harper and they quickly disengage again.

“Yeah,” Dick says slowly. “Honestly I think that's why he's hesitating. That and he doesn't want to be trapped down there. He's also considering  ~~Athena~~.” Harper reaches to pull back another arrow only to immediately discover Slade has cut his string. He makes an annoyed clicking noise and Slade rushes for him.

“What about baby bird?” Jason asks.

“After what happened last time, I don't think he's too keen on trying that again,” Dick assures. “Tim’s champion  _is_  Superboy. Dami underestimated him once already.” Harper defends himself with his hand knife, urgently redirecting the force of each of Slade’s swings- he knows better than to try to brute force it.

“He's still going by ‘Superboy’?” Jason asks, snorting an amused sound.

“I think it's cute,” Dick says. Harper jabs Slade in the knee with an arrow.

“It's not,” Jason replies. Slade cuts Harper’s quiver from his back.

“It is! And besides, it's not like anyone can pronounce  ~~Kon-El~~ ,” Dick assures with a roll of the eyes. Harper rolls aside as Slade drives his sword down, grazing his side far more than enough to draw blood. He maneuvers onto a knee.

“Little help, deity?” Harper says mildly. Jason looks back at him. He finishes off his drink before blowing Harper a kiss. Slade takes a step back as lazarus fluid seems to arise from nowhere, enveloping Harper swiftly, bestowing upon him his champion form.

In seconds, Harper has doubled in size. Already a man challenging of Slade’s own height and mass, he's now massive. Additional appendages sprout from his back, adding four extra free floating arms to his natural two. The lazarus goo recedes, leaving Harper in his red combat uniform. It continues to drip from his eyes, however, running down his face like tears and dripping off the bottom of his neck- rendering him without visual sight. He doesn't need it, though.

His god guides him.

“Want some help, Slade?” Dick offers. Harper draws back two arms like he's knocking an arrow and an ethereal bow and arrow appears in his hands, intangible and infinite.

“No,” Slade says and he braces himself. Dick shrugs.

Harper is already a formidable foe and in his champion form, he's a right pain in the ass. Underworld champions always are. His arrows now hold enough power that when he releases, scratching Slade as it goes by, only the end of the fletching sticks out from the wood floors- directly into concrete below. Slade takes cover not to hide, he can't from Jason, but to deter the arrows even slightly. 

He's quick to put space between them. An arrow pierces directly through his arm as he moves and sticks in the floor with the others. Slade can't get close and honestly, doesn't want to. He puts his sword away in favour of his gun, not exactly a god killer but it'll buy him some time. The shots he lands are immediately filled and healed with lazarus fluid.

Annoying.

Slade moves for Jason. His goal is to, ultimately, disrupt their connection even briefly. If Jason teleports too far away, it should leave Harper open to an attack long enough to get at his vitals. He doesn't get that far. As he's moving, Harper snipes him in his good eye. The arrow travels completely through his head, not only rendering him blind but severely pissing him off.

“See? I told you,” Jason murmurs. “Stupid.” Slade takes his eye patch off. Harper advances on him instantly, drawing all three sets of arms to put him down with devastating efficiency. The second he's close enough, however, Slade drives his sword straight through his bond mark. Harper curses in Mohawk.

“Don't worry,” Dick says. “Mine, too.” They both disappear.

Harper has two deities.

Slade doesn't have time to escape the sheer supernova blast Harper emits upon his loss.

-

As usual, Slade awakens from his post-mortem nap with Dick kissing him. Thoroughly. He allows this for a few moments while he reorients himself before pushing Dick away.

“Enough,” he says shortly. Dick smiles at him, the two of them lying side by side on what is obviously a cheap motel room. Considering Dick is almost always in some form of undress, it's not unusual enough to note that he's half naked. Slade throws the blanket over him anyways. “Where's Jason?”

“Oh, long gone,” Dick assures, fluttering little kisses against Slade’s jaw. Slade pushes him away again. “But you did technically defeat his champion. Roy will be licking his wounds with Kori for a while so you won't have to worry about him again.”

“How long have I been out?” Slade asks. Dick places soft little kisses on his shoulder and again, Slade pushes him away.

“Couple hours,” Dick says. “Do you want your reward now?”

“Is it useful?” Slade asks mildly. Dick holds his hand out and in his palm floats a drop of lazarus liquid.

“An Underworld champion has Underworld rewards,” he says with a smile.

“I can regenerate fine on my own,” Slade replies.

“You take things too literally sometimes,” Dick murmurs and he sighs a little. He reaches forward and Slade remains still as the drop is ‘applied’ to his empty socket. “Consider your god’s eye upgraded.” Slade rubs his socket distantly before pressing his eye patch back on.

“Thanks,” he says. Dick smiles at him with a pleasant hum and Slade leans over to kiss him faintly on the lips.

“Bad news time,” Dick says as Slade climbs out of bed and searches for something to put on. “Tim has sided with Jason which means Apollo has sided with Jason.”

“Define ‘sided’?” Slade replies.

“They're going to try to stop you from pursuing him,” Dick assures. Fantastic. Slade really doesn't want to fight  ~~Ares~~ ’ champion let alone at the same time as Apollo’s. And if he fights Apollo’s champion, he might very well have to fight Artemis’. He's fought his daughter before, he knew it was bound to happen when she followed in his footsteps, but he tries not to whenever possible.

“How sure are you that letting Jason kill The Joker is a bad idea?” Slade asks though honestly, he's not even sure if he's serious.

“Killing The Joker would destroy Jason,” Dick answers. “I, personally, am not too keen on that sacrifice. The Joker is dad’s responsibility and beyond that, hysteria needs to be killed by a mortal for him to be able to revert back to the god he once was. Jason will only compound the problem.”

“So why is everyone else alright with this?” Slade questions. Dick shrugs.

“The Joker has pissed a lot of people off. Gods don't exactly think things through when they're angry,” he says. A fair point.

“Guess I'm going to fight Superboy and Static,” Slade murmurs begrudgingly. He's going to need to prepare better.

“Can we have sex first?” Dick asks, rolling onto his stomach and arching his back sweetly.

“We’re on limited time here, kid,” Slade reminds him. “Later.”

“You like Jason better than me, don't you?” Dick scoffs.

“Don't start,” Slade answers shortly. Dick pouts. 


End file.
